Pokémon: Ivory & Onyx
by Imperial Tyrant
Summary: My take on Generation V. After spending seven years of his life without any success, Ash is offered a second chance in the new Exodus league. However, two cults aiming to change the world don't want him there... AAML, cursing, violence. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

And lo, the Tyrant's first real story hath appeared.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own the Pokemon franchise. If I did, things would have been a _hell_ of a lot different. I did, however, create a large number of elements in this story.

* * *

Pokemon: Ivory & Onyx

**Prologue**

_An excerpt from the Manuscript of Rhodes the Prophet:_

'…**from the north they came; an army clad in dusky topaz, of both men and beasts, for the sole purpose of entering the gate. Their dark and terrible King had in his possession the Abomination, the Fiend of Cerulean Flame, Master of Wishes…bade the devil to open the gates, which it did so in a fashion most horrific. It didst rend asunder the very fabric of creation, tearing a jagged wound in the sky which devoured all who drew near. The yellow king and his armies vanished within the dark abyss, consumed to the last page and squire…and from the black portal, malevolent eyes, numbering Ten-and-Three, didst gaze upon the land in evil triumph, joined by the equally vile laughter of the Azure Demon.'**

The man closed the ancient book softly and set it down upon his cluttered table. Hastily-scrawled notes, half-a-dozen bilingual dictionaries and a number of star charts covered every inch of the oaken desk. With a frown, he realised that it was dark, and reached over to the oil lamp, giving the knob a little twist. To his annoyance, the light emanating from the glass bulb barely increased; the wick must be nearly exhausted. He turned to his friend, hoping to inquire if she might rectify the situation, but upon seeing her curled up at the foot of his bed, purring in contentment as she dreamed a cat's dream, he couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose, stifling a yawn as he realised that it was the twenty-first of May. This meant that he'd been pouring over his research for at least a week without more sleep than a few quick naps. No wonder he felt so tired.

His eyes fell upon one of the star maps, where the constellation Ophiucus had been circled with a red pen. The words 'Serpent of Chaos' had been written underneath the image, based upon part of Rhodes' prophecy.

_Rhodes_, he thought with an admiring smile. _He may have been a madman, but the guy was a genius! Years ahead of his time. And his prophecies…I can't think of a single instant where any of his predictions actually turned out to be false._

The thought of the prophet's accuracy proved sobering. If only the man's final vision hadn't been so starkly apocalyptic. It foretold the coming of an evil so terrifying as to reduce the world to a smoking ruin, bereft of anything which could possibly support the return of life. It _did_ mention that a champion would supposedly rise up to combat the evil force, but the outcome of the battle had not been foretold: Rhodes had passed away before he could finish recounting his vision.

An urgent rapping brought the man back to reality. He frowned. According to the wall clock, it was half-past eleven at night, and he couldn't imagine who could possibly be calling at this hour. Certainly not his brother, Samuel, or his mother Cyan. He'd become estranged from them both after moving to the continent of Exodus.

The rapping came again, louder and more urgent than before.

"All right, I'm coming!" he yelled irritably as he got up from his chair. Less than a minute later he was at the door, clad in a bathrobe and having straightened out his dishevelled hair. "Who is it?" he inquired, peering through the peephole in his door.

"Speedy-Ponyta express," came the muffled reply. His late-night visitor was a woman dressed in a trench-coat, a brown fedora pulled down over her face. "We've got an urgent delivery for a Mister Red Pallet. You him?"

Red knew that something was definitely not right. In addition to the fact that he received all of his important mail by courier Pidgey, the girl in the hallway didn't even have a package in her hands. She also appeared to be concealing a revolver in one of her pockets.

Red snorted. He was dealing with amateurs.

"Just a second," he said as he opened the door. The girl smiled evilly as she stepped through the threshold, reaching for her trusty six-shooter and taking aim at the foolish Pokémon Trainer's back—

Only to have the door slam into her with tremendous force. She cried out as she fell to the floor, and gasped in fear as a large feline Pokémon strode over to her. One look at the creature's leonine features and fiery mane told her that this cat was a force to be reckoned with. She tried to reach for her gun, but the Pokémon snarled and brought a massive paw down on her chest. She gave out a loud "_woof!_" as the blow drove the air from her lungs, and she could do nothing as it used its tail to flick the gun across the room.

Red locked the door and came over to inspect his would-be assassin, toeing the fedora away so that he could get a good look at her face. He could scarcely contain his shock as he took in the girl's familiar brown hair and matching eyes.

"Green," he said at length, his tone utterly neutral. "What a surprise to see you all the way out here in Faultline City. Shouldn't you be back in Kanto, trying to scam some gullible twit out of his money or something like that?"

"Nice to see you too, honey," she replied dryly. "Don't I get a 'how have you been after all this time,' at least? And will you call off your mutt?"

The feline Pokémon brought its face dangerously close to the brunette's and bared its smouldering yellow teeth, growling with obvious rage at being mistaken for a repulsive _canine_. Green blinked nervously, noting that the air around its mouth was actually shimmering from the heat. _Perhaps insulting it was the wrong thing to do…_

"That's enough, Ember," Red said in a commanding tone. "She's a friend."

'Ember' glanced back and forth from Red to Green, the look on its face clearly indicating that it would like nothing better than to maul the girl for such an effrontery. It eventually got off of her chest, fortunately, and slinked over to Red in what was decidedly a possessive fashion.

"Ember is a Pyroar," Red explained, offering his former traveling companion a hand as she got to her feet. "I found her about a year ago, when she was just an Umbar—a little kitten with a fiery coat and an adorable face that you would've loved, I'm sure—and we've been partners ever since. As you've already seen, she can be a bit possessive—especially when it comes to me!" he added as the big cat playfully knocked him down before shooting Green a venomous glare.

"Yeah, I can see that," Green noted with a smile. "Though I doubt that it can beat trusty old Shell-shocker. He does have the type advantage, after all, _and_ he's been travelling with me since you and I started out all those years ago."

Red found that he couldn't really argue with that. After all, he could still recall the time that her Blastoise managed to defeat every single one of his Pokémon without really breaking a sweat…

* * *

"_Well folks, there you have it!" the announcer's voice thundered throughout the stadium. "In this, the semi-final match of the Third Indigo Conference in the Kanto Pokémon League, Red Pallet from Pallet Town has managed to defeat five of his opponent's six Pokémon using only his Marowak! Truly, this is an unprecedented event the history of the Pokémon League!!"_

_Red's Pokémon, Thrasher, stood proudly in the center of the battlefield. It reached out with one hand and caught its returning weapon, a long thigh bone, as its opponent—a Victreebel—dissipated into red light and returned to its owner's Pokéball. _

"_Not bad, Red." Green had to admit that her thirteen-year old friend had come a long way since the brash and self-centred boy he had been at the start of their journey. "You're a lot better than I thought you'd be."_

"_You too," the boy replied, shooting her a wink. "But I have to say that I think we all know how this match is going to end. Why don't you let this end with some dignity, and forfeit?"_

_Even though she was still smiling, the look which she gave him was anything but friendly. Red felt a massive bead of sweat run down the back of his head. _What was that old saying about 'hell hath no fury…?'

"_Sorry to disappoint, buddy," she sneered, reaching for her last pokéball. "But you know how I never live up to people's expectations." And with that she hurled the ball, calling out her final—and strongest Pokémon._

_Red groaned. He'd forgotten just how _big_ Shell-shocker was. At five-foot three, the blue-and brown tortoise stood a good two feet taller than his Marowak. The Blastoise growled its name as two scales on its carapace flipped open to reveal a pair of large cannons. He gulped, recalling one of Professor White's lectures about how a Blastoise could shoot water from those guns with enough force to punch a fist-sized hole through solid steel, and yet were accurate enough to hit an empty coke bottle from one-hundred and sixty feet away. This was not going to be an easy battle._

"_Thrasher, use Bonemerang!" he called out, making the first move._

"_Wak!" the Ground-type Pokémon replied, cocking its arm back and throwing the bone like a boomerang. The femur sailed through the air at a rapid speed, arcing towards the bipedal turtle's head._

"_Shell-shocker, Withdraw!"_

_Immediately the Blastoise retracted its limbs and head into the shell. The femur slammed into the shell exactly one second later, rebounding off the durable keratin and arcing back to strike the shell a second time before returning to its thrower's outstretched hand._

_Green didn't hesitate to take advantage of Thrasher's momentary distraction. "Use Rapid Spin!"_

"_Blast!" the turtle Pokémon roared as it began to whirl like a dervish, shooting across the field almost too fast for the eye to track. Red yelled for Thrasher to get out of the way, but it was too late: Blastoise slammed into the smaller reptilian Pokémon with such force that Marowak flew across the arena and slammed into the wall, leaving a foot-deep impression of itself behind. Thrasher remained in that newly-created niche for five seconds, at which point it popped out and fell to the ground, obviously knocked senseless._

_Red scowled as he recalled the Pokémon. _I'm not going to let her get the best of me! _he thought, unclipping the next pokéball from his belt. "Energeel, I choose you!"_

_Green's eyes widened in surprise at the bizarre Pokémon. It was a neon-blue, seven-foot long…_eel _(she shuddered at the thought) with a number of glowing green spots and bands running down its body. A streamlined metallic helmet covered its head, the light at its end seeming almost comical as it reminded her of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Stantler. Most bizarre of all, though, was the fact that it was floating in midair without any obvious means of support._

"_Energeel, use Thunder Wave!" Red ordered. The complied instantly, its nose-light lighting up before unleashing a cone of yellow electricity across the field. Green's eyes widened; she knew that if the electricity made contact with Shell-shocker, he'd become paralyzed—and be completely at the mercy of Red's remaining Pokémon._

"_Dig!"_

_The Blastoise retracted into its shell once more, whirling onto its side before spinning lengthwise like a massive drill as it bored its way underground. The electrical blast from the eel's Thunder Wave passed harmlessly over the spot which Shell-shocker had just vacated, diffusing into the earth without incident._

_Red started to panic. As an Electric-type Pokémon, Energeel was particularly susceptible to ground-type attacks. If he didn't act now, his second Pokémon would be toast._

"_Energeel, use Protect!"_

_Energeel closed its eyes and shuddered, the green patches on its body suddenly glowing much brighter. Within seconds, the bands had projected an emerald sphere around the creature's body, rendering it impervious to harm. Almost immediately afterward, Blastoise erupted from the ground and slammed into the ell-like Pokémon, only to be repelled by the energy shield._

"_Now!" Red yelled. "Follow it up with Volt Tackle!"_

_Arcs of blue lightning began to gambol along the sinuous Pokémon's body as it lunged forward with a sudden burst of speed, intending to ram Shell-shocker and blast it with several thousand volts of electricity. Unfortunately for Energeel, Blastoise sidestepped to evade the attack, then grabbed the eel by its nonconductive tail and looked to its trainer._

_Green smirked evilly. "Hey Red," she called, dragging out her friend's name. "Do you remember that game we used to play when we were young?"_

"_You mean 'Let's Pretend'?" he asked with a sinking feeling._

_Green nodded vigorously. "Now, Shell-shocker! Let's pretend that that goo-covered eel is on _fire!_"_

Aw, nuts,_ Red thought to himself._

_Exactly as he had feared, the Blastoise proceeded to crack his poor Energeel like a whip and slam him repeatedly against the ground. This went on for a good minute or so before the turtle finally got bored and let the eel go with a casual shrug. The crowd had gone silent, shocked at this display of brutality. Even the announcer, who had been running a continuous stream of commentary since the beginning of the match, could find nothing to say as Red returned the battered Pokémon to its container._

_And so it continued, with his Espeon, Lombre, and Magnezone meeting similarly quick defeats. By the end of it all, Red was shaking from frustration. He'd spent the last two years of his life traveling through Kanto, collecting as many Pokémon as he could in addition to the eight Gym Badges required to take part in the Indigo Conference—hell, he'd even single-handedly brought down Team Bomb, the most notorious criminal organization in the world! He'd gone through all of that, and _now _he was going to let_ _his best friend and rival walk all over his most powerful Pokémon?! I don't think so!!_

"_Well, Green, you've given me a real run for my money," he said through clenched teeth. "But don't think that you've beaten me yet!"_

"_Why shouldn't I?" she goaded him. "You're down to your last Pokémon, in case you didn't notice."_

_Red grinned nastily. "True," he agreed, his breath coming out as a hiss, "but it's a doozy." He cocked his arm and hurled the pokéball onto the field. "Come forth, Behemoth!"_

_The red-and-white rob bust open to revealing a hulking, four-legged Pokémon with ferns and a palm tree growing out of its back. The teal saurian towered over Blastoise by almost two feet, and it was clearly wider and heavier. The brutish creature lumbered forward, its ferns parting to reveal a massive scar which ran across the length of its face. glaring at the bipedal tortoise with contempt, it opened its mouth and loosed a bellowing roar: "_VEEEEEEEEEEENUSAUR!!"

"_What's this?!" the announcer demanded rhetorically. "It seems that Red Pallet has been saving his best for last, sending out his Venusaur to combat Green Easel's Blastoise. Who will triumph in this incredible battle of the Kanto starter Pokémon?!"_

_Green's eyes narrowed in contemplation. It was obvious that Behemoth was Red's strongest Pokémon: not only was this suggested by the lumbering Grass-and-Poison-type's battle-scarred appearance, but it also seemed to exude a sort of pressure which made all within it presence look upon it with awe. One thing was certain; this battle wouldn't be anywhere near as easy as the previous ones._

"_Hydro Pump!" Green commanded._

"_Solar Beam!" Red ordered at the same time._

_Twin jets of pressurized water exploded from Shell-shocker's cannons, even as Behemoth fired a ray of condensed photons from the flower on its back. The two attacks collided in midair, creating a massive explosion of energy and sand which obscured the entire field for several seconds. Both trainers used their hands to shield their eyes, each trying to see what had become of their Pokémon._

_Slowly the dust cleared, revealing that both Pokémon were still on their feet and essentially undamaged from the explosion. Even though the rivals breathed sighs of relief, they cursed fate for allowing the opponent to escape the attack unscathed._

"_Vine Whip!"_

_Venusaur obeyed the command without delay, unfurling two vines and launching them straight at Blastoise. Before either trainer or her Pokémon could react, the vines had entangled the turtle, picked it up and hurled it across the field. Blastoise slammed into one of the stadium walls and dropped to the floor, leaving a small crater to mark its violent impact._

"_Now finish it off, Behemoth! Use Frenzy Plant!"_

_Everyone in the audience gasped. Frenzy Plant was, without question, the most powerful grass-type attack in the world. It was also the most difficult to master, requiring extended periods of practice and study. For Red's Venusaur to even be able to pull off such a move was a clear mark of his prowess as a trainer._

_Venusaur roared, rearing back on its hind legs and slamming them down with such force that the entire stadium was shaken as if by a powerful earthquake. Massive, spiked roots tore out of the ground and lunged like vipers at the stunned Blastoise, ready to bludgeon the turtle into unconsciousness._

_But the Pokémon was not there._

_Shell-shocker had managed to pull itself far enough away that it escaped the brunt of the blast. It still took one hell of a pounding, however, as the vines exploded as soon as they struck the earth, showering the injured turtle—and some unfortunate members of the audience—with enormous chunks and slivers of wood. Blastoise wasn't down yet, however, as it still had one last trick up its sleeve. It aimed its shoulder cannons at the weakened Venusaur and began to draw in particles of white energy._

_Red frowned. He'd never seen anything like whatever it was that Shell-shocker was doing, apart from Solar Beam, so what…_

_His eyes widened as the answer hit him. An Ice-type attack!_

"_Shell-shocker!" Green ordered. "Use Arctic Lance!"_

_Immediately upon receiving this order, Blastoise fired two yard long shards of ice from its cannons. Venusaur, who was still weak from using Frenzy Plant, couldn't muster the energy to get out of the way in time. The attack slammed into Behemoth, encasing it in a pillar of ice which shattered almost instantly. The pain of being frozen solid and then shattered was too much for the Grass-type Pokémon too bear; it stumbled forward weakly and groaned out its name before it collapsed, unconscious._

"_What an amazing match!!" the announcer roared. "After what seemed like a certain victory and a complete turn-around upset, Green Easel's Blastoise managed to defeat Red Pallet's Venusaur with an unexpected use of the devastating Arctic Lance attack. The winner, with one Pokémon out of six remaining, is Green Easel of Pallet Town!!"_

* * *

"Yeah, that was a hell of a battle," Red admitted. "It's too bad that you lost to Sammy in the next round, though."

Green flushed with embarrassment. Although she and Red had been more or less evenly matched during their battle nine years ago, her battle with Samuel Oak had been notably one-sided. He had taken down five of her best Pokémon using only his Dragonair, and even though Shell-shocker was able to overcome the elegant serpent, her Blastoise had taken quite a beating. As a result, the poor thing couldn't stand up to Samuel's Charizard despite having a type advantage.

She snapped out of her reverie when she realized that her friend was asking a question. "Sorry, Red, I wasn't paying attention. What did you say?"

"I said how is Sammy? I haven't seen the little runt in almost a decade."

She smiled, and proceeded to relate everything that occurred since Red had departed from Kanto about a year after the conference. He was quite surprised to hear that his adoptive brother had plans to become a Pokémon professor, and that not only was he already married, but his wife was expecting their first child.

After an hour of reminiscing, Red decided that it was time to get own to business. "Now, could please explain _why_ you tracked me down and pointed a gun at my back?"

Green immediately adopted a sombre look. "Oh," she said slowly. "_That._"

Red watched in confusion and worry as she stood up from his bed and sighed, picking up the revolver from the floor. "That wasn't for you, Red. It was for me. You can't imagine how depressed I've become since you left."

Red's eyes widened in horror as she brought the gun up to her temple and smiled wistfully. "I just wanted to see you, one last time," she whispered. "One last time before I end it all…"

And before Red could stop her, she pulled the trigger.

"NO!" the boy screamed, reaching out with one hand in a futile attempt to grab her pistol while flinging the other one over his eyes, not wanting to see his best friend's guts splattered all over his apartment.

Instead of a deafening '_bang'_ and the awful sensation of blood on his arms, however, there was instead a 'pop'…which was accompanied by uproarious laughter. Confused, Red lowered his hand and saw Green, alive and rolling on the floor, guffawing. The pistol in her hand had a flag emblazoned with the word BANG! protruding from its muzzle. Red could feel his face go from stark white from relief, to red from embarrassment, and finally to a deep, angry purple.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" Green managed to choke out between sobs—she was actually laughing so hard that tears were gushing from her eyes—and pointed a finger at the beet-faced man in mirth. "If only I had a camera on me!"

"You have a seriously fucked-up sense of humour, you know that?" he snapped angrily, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up off the floor. One look into his pained, hurt eyes was enough to make Green stop laughing. "I almost had a heart attack, for crying out loud!"

Green dropped her head uncomfortably, unable to meet her friend's gaze as the full weight of her prank finally settled upon her. If she'd known that he would react this badly, she'd never have done it. her train of thought was derailed, much to her surprise, when Red did something completely unlike him; he clutched her to his chest and laid his head on her shoulder. Astonishingly, she felt wetness on her shoulders.

* * *

Red awoke hours later to the sunlight streaming through his apartment window, right into his eyes. He groaned softly, reaching up with a hand to blot out the sun. The _arrogance_ of that ball of hydrogen! Shining painful rays of light on his incredibly tired eyes! How dare it disturb his sleep in such a way.

He stayed his hand once he saw how beautiful they made the dozing woman next to him appear. Green lay spooned against his back, naked except for the blanket they wore and looking utterly content. She murmured softly and snuggled into him, making any chance of escape nonexistent.

_Not that I'd actually _want _to escape_, he thought with a loving smile as he gently caressed his lover's side. Memories of last night's passionate events came flooding back to him: Green's apologies, his revelation of his feelings, her acceptance, and culmination of more than a decade's worth of pent-up emotions expressed through the ultimate act of love.

Red sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling his soul mate's intoxicating scent. This, he felt, was the perfect way to cement their relationship. Within seconds he had drifted of to sleep.

Moments later, a fiery blue orb popped soundlessly into existence at the center of the room, roiling and morphing until it had become a small, ghostly Pokémon with two small arms and a goatee on its chin. It bore a white turban with a red jewel and feather upon its head, pulled down so low that the top half of its face was obscured in a band of shadow, from which only its mischievous black eyes could be discerned. A wool vest embroidered with bizarre scarlet eye patterns was draped on its small shoulders, and two golden bracelets which resembled shackles clung to its wrists. The eighteen-inch tall genie cast its gaze about the room, its sinister little grin never leaving its face. for a moment it wondered whether or not to have some fun with the sleeping couple, but decided against it; the Pyroar sleeping in the corner looked powerful, and would probably wake at a moment's notice if it felt that its master was in danger.

Instead, the genie looked over at the paper-covered table, using its telekinetic powers to make the notes and charts rise up into the air and whirl around. It only took the sinister Pokémon a few seconds to analyze the contents. It puffed itself up in pride at the titles by which it was referred in Rhodes' manuscript, and the last vestiges of boredom disappeared as it read the old coot's final prophecy:

**Two who were once more than friends, now naught but bitter and dire foes,**

**One, powerful, ghastly pale, cunning and born of Darkness,**

**The other, lithe, sun baked, wise and born of Light,**

**Shall call to them all who feel the touch of the Damned Gods**

**And awaken the Insane Lords of Chaos and Order.**

**Should the Balance not reassert itself and restrain the Beast of Nether,**

**The world—nay, all worlds—shall be unwrought by the Gods' furor.**

**Against the tide of destruction, one shall rise;**

**Chosen of the Sea, Herald of the Sacred Fire**

**Friend to the Aberration and the Foreigner alike.**

**He who hath born the title of King of the Sea, and who didst pacify the Lustrous and Adamant Dragons, calmed both the Lord of the Dead and the Mover of Continents, healed the Guardian of Time's Flow, and destroyed the False Behemoth,**

**Shall be called upon to perform his final labour.**

**Alone, he shall meet his end, but he shall use the tools of the Mad Gods' heralds against them, and shall overcome this task by combining—**

And that was all to be read; the bottom half of the page which Red had been deciphering was missing, lost to the unforgiving sands of history. But that was perfectly fine with the Pokémon; even if it didn't have the second half of the page—and it _did_—it knew their meaning by heart. It grinned in a manner that would have sent the bravest man screaming for the hills. It knew _everything_—past, present, and many possible futures—and it knew that the events which the prophecy foretold could not begin without a little…outside help.

The creature vanished, cackling maniacally as it did so. _This was going to be _fun…_keep playing with fire, Red Pallet; YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH FIRE YOU'RE DEALING WITH!!_AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!

* * *

Three months later, Red and Green were married in Pallet Town, to the joy and expectations of many. About a year later, Green gave birth to twins: a girl with brown hair and eyes, and a darker-skinned girl with pale hair. They named them Delia and Lucille, respectively. As the years passed, the two girls lived very different lives; while Delia was content to stay in Pallet Town and go to school, studying under now-renowned Professor Samuel Oak alongside her friend Spencer, Lucille chose to follow in her parents' footsteps and become a Pokémon Trainer. She made it as far as the Quarter Finals in the Indigo Conference before she lost; after this she broke off all contact with her family and disappeared.

As for Delia, she settled down in Pallet Town and married a man named John Ketchum. Their relationship ended about a month after their son, Ash, was born. Green fell ill shortly afterward, succumbing to a fatal disease. Red, heartbroken, left Kanto to search for his daughter, in an attempt to bring his family together one last time.

Ash Ketchum, much like his grandfather, was obsessed with Pokémon from the day he could talk. Upon becoming ten years of age, he set out to Professor Oak's laboratory and received his first Pokémon, a yellow electric rodent named Pikachu. From then on out, he spent the next seven years travelling the world with his companions, earning Gym Badges, making friends and thwarting the plans of nefarious organizations such as Team Rocket, Team Aqua and Team Magma, and Team Galactic. Having recently lost in the Sinnoh Pokémon League Conference, troubled Ash has returned to Pallet Town in order to take part in an activity that was utterly foreign to the boy.

Ash Ketchum was going home…to _think!_


	2. Chapter 1: On the Road again

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I _did_ create a large number of original elements, such as the region, its 102 Pokemon, and the plot of this story.

Note: If there were any major typos, I apologise, as I worked on this long into the night.

* * *

**Chapter 1: On the Road Again…Again (or, Rock vs. Freak)**

The midday sun reflected brightly off the ocean's calm surface. Numerous seabirds like Wingull or Pelipper rode the thermals, plummeting into a dive every now and then to scoop up any Magikarp unfortunate enough to draw near the water's surface. Wailmer drifted lazily along the sea currents, shovelfuls of krill disappearing into their cavernous mouths, while a shoal of Feebas scattered, hoping to shake off the half-dozen Sharpedo which pursued them. The dull brown fish swam away from the sharks at a speed driven by fear, only for most of them to be scooped up by the arms of a waiting Tentacruel. All was normal in this part of the sea; the Pokémon who called this stretch of water between Kanto and Sinnoh home went about their daily routine as they had done for their entire lives; from the second they were born to the second when the spark of life was extinguished, they perpetuated this cycle of feeding and leisure. It ways simply the way of things in this part of the world.

Still, even the circle of life doesn't mind a bit of a shake-up every now and then, as these Pokémon learned seconds later when a metallic white hydrofoil came speeding out of the east, preceded by froth and leaving startled animals in its wake. The Sea-gallop Ferry sailed west at a rapid pace, cutting the ocean as it went. The passenger deck was empty, save for a young man resting his arms on the guardrail; a Pikachu perched on his left shoulder, doing its best to engage him in a conversation. The teen stared out at the passing water and loosed a melancholy sigh, ignoring the concerned actions of his trusty Pokémon. He barely even noticed when Pikachu suddenly grabbed his cap and leapt onto the deck, scampering away with a muffled cry of "Pika-pi!" It was no use; Ash just couldn't pull himself out of his funk.

He'd lost to Paul in the Sinnoh Pokémon League Conference.

Not only that, but Paul had then gotten his ass handed to him on a silver platter by some girl—Ash couldn't be bothered to remember her name—who, herself, had lost in the final round of the tournament. This would have been bearable, however, had it not been for the fact that his rival's opponent had been a complete and utter ditz who knew about as much about Pokémon battling as Brock knew about picking up chicks successfully—which was to say, very little. Paul had lost on account of the fact that the girl's Whismur, which had been losing the match up until that point, abruptly surprised everyone by bypassing its second form and evolving straight into Exploud, before decimating Paul's team with its Hyper Voice attack. Needless to say, both Ash and his rival felt humiliated about having lost in such a manner.

Even so, this would not have been so bad if Ash were still the slow, belligerent ten-year old that he was when he started out on his journey; but he was seventeen now, and even though his education level was still comparable to a fourth-grader's, he had managed to pick up on a few things—namely the fact that every single time he had ever lost to somebody in a tournament, that person always failed to defeat their next opponent. Exactly what this meant he wasn't sure, but Ash was worried. This disturbing pattern had forced him to start re-evaluating his desire to become a Pokémon Master. He had spent the last seven years of his life trying to attain the coveted title, collecting thirty-six gym badges, competing in five leagues and the Battle Frontier…and for what? He had only won in the Orange Islands league and the Battle Frontier, and somehow those didn't seem as impressive or as important as the four major national leagues. In addition to this, he also realised that he would most likely never catch every single Pokémon: since the beginning of his journey he had managed to capture about eighty Pokémon—thirty of which were the Tauros which he caught in the Safari Zone mere months after the start of his odyssey. Granted, this was an impressive figure; however, given that there were almost five _hundred_ known species of Pokémon—more of which were being discovered everyday—and that it had taken him this long to reach his current amount, his chances of catching them all were slim and growing slimmer by the hour.

Ash sighed once more and drummed his fingers on the handrail. He needed something to get him off of this depressing train of thought, and he needed it now. Fortunately, it seemed that Fate was being merciful; Pikachu gave out a startled cry. Ash's head whipped around, his moody funk disappearing as he laid eyes upon a familiar white-uniformed duo and their talking Meowth. Anger quickly took its place.

"Prepare for trouble," Jessie began, smirking evilly as she placed the electric mouse Pokémon into a glass ball on a rod.

"Make it double," James added, twirling stylishly on the spot.

Ash butted in before this stupidity could carry on any further, a scowl contorting his features. "Don't you have anything better to do besides try to steal Pikachu for the umpteenth time?" he snapped in annoyance, his fingers reaching for one of his pokéballs. "I mean, this whole routine is starting to get old. _Really _old. Not to mention predictable," he added with a contemptuous smirk.

Almost immediately the Team Rocket motto came screeching to a halt. The mortified expressions on Jessie and James' faces were priceless; if Ash could have taken a picture of them at that moment, he would never get tired of looking at the picture. Too bad he wasn't a photographer like Todd Snap, he thought wryly.

"Predictable?!" Jessie shrieked, her banshee-cries causing James and Meowth to flinch away in pain and fear. "How could a stunning and talented actress like _moi_ ever be predictable?! This will ruin my career!"

Meowth shot James a confused look. "She's still hung up on dat ting?" The purple-haired man nodded in response, unwilling to provoke the ire of the voluptuous, irrational redhead. With a bang and a flash, Wobbuffet popped out of his pokéball and shouted his own name in agreement, slapping its paddle of a hand against its smooth blue head.

"You see?" Ash goaded with a grin. "Your own Pokémon agrees with me—you're getting stale after all this time, Team Rocket!" Then his expression turned serious. "Now why don't you save yourselves the pain of another 'blast-off,' and just give Pikachu back before anyone gets hurt. And by anyone, of course, I mean you," he clarified a moment later, pointing his index finger at them in an accusatory manner.

"Not a chance, twerp!" the male half of Team Rocket declared, whipping out a pokéball and calling forth his Carnivine. The oversized Venus Flytrap gleefully clamped its jaws shut over James' head despite the latter's protests, remaining there for a full minute before Meowth lost his patience and pried the creature loose with a few Fury Swipes.

Once he had regained his senses, James ordered Carnivine to use its Bullet Seed attack on Ash. Unfortunately for the criminals, however, Ash had not been standing idly by while James was being eaten by the grass-type Pokémon. By the time Carnivine had been removed, the boy had already deployed his own Pokémon—Monferno. Twenty seconds and a powerful Flame Wheel later, and Team Rocket were blasting off yet again, leaving Pikachu safe and sound. Ash was relieved, but he couldn't help but feel that something was missing. It wasn't until he felt the breeze knifing through his hair and saw that Pikachu was empty-handed that he realized what happened.

"Aw, shit!" he exclaimed, barely able to restrain the profanities which stood on the tip of his tongue. "They took my hat!"

Pikachu blinked in surprise. While it understood that Ash was very attached to his hat, it still felt that his current behaviour was a bit much. It began to console him once more, having about the same level of effect; once it had finished with its little pep talk, Ash threw back his head and loosed a mournful, stentorian roar to the heavens. His hat was lost, and things would never be the same.

"Looking for this, by any chance?" a gruff voice demanded. Ash turned around and came face-to-face with a wall of muscle, clad in a sleeveless sweatshirt emblazoned with a skull and a black letter P. He blinked and craned his neck back, and back, _and back_, in order to see the face of the giant which stood in front of him, commanding his attention. The man's jaw was covered in hair—not a beard and not stubble, but somewhere in-between the two—and much of his upper face was hidden by the shadows of a pulled-down hood. He wore a black toque, the letter P stamped proudly on its front, and a plastic skull was sewn into the hood. What could be seen of the man's cheekbones looked as though they'd been carved out of the side of a mountain, and Ash noticed that the towering man's arms were easily as thick as a watermelon.

"Your hat," the man said, thrusting a hand forward to reveal Ash's familiar red, black and blue hat. Ash sighed in relief and snatched up the hat, jamming it onto his head with glee. He turned to thank the stranger, but noticed that the man was already walking away. For some reason, Ash felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders; he was glad that the man had returned his hat, but there was something about the muscle-bound giant which just seemed oppressive and malignant. Perhaps Ash just didn't like the way he dressed—what was the deal with all those skull emblems and the P logo?—or maybe he was just intimidated by the stranger's stature, but whatever the reason was, Ash was glad that he left.

Had he not been so unsettled by the man, however, Ash probably would have noticed the small, crimson diode now affixed to the brim of his cap, blinking at a steady pace and accompanied by an extremely quiet beep every second or so. Had he not also turned to look back at the sea, wondering what his friend Brock—who had taken an earlier ferry back to Kanto—was doing at that moment, he would have seen the man pull out a cellular phone and heard him speak the words "target secure" into the receiver.

* * *

The rest of the journey proceeded without incident; the ferry came to port in Vermillion City, where Ash stayed at the local Pokémon Centre for the night before setting out on the long walk back home to Pallet Town. It took him three weeks but he made it home safely, albeit exhausted from the unending trek. He stumbled up the steps of his mother's house, leaning against the doorframe as he struggled to catch his breath before rapping on the door. There was no answer, so he rapped again. This went on for some time until Pikachu finally pointed out a note taped to the door, which read:

_Dear Ash, _

_I heard what happened in Sinnoh, and I'm sorry about your loss. I'm at Professor Oak's laboratory—he has something important to tell you. Come right away._

_Mom_

_P.S.: did you remember to change your underwear?_

Ash groaned in dismay at his mother's insatiable mollycoddling, turning around and walking all the way across town to the Professor's lab. Because he was practically dead on his feet, it took him close to an hour to get there, at which point he stumbled in the door and promptly fell asleep. Some time later he awoke from a very uncomfortable sleep, noticing first and foremost that someone had moved him onto a very stiff couch—the source of his unexpected back pain, no doubt. He rose from his improvised bead with a groan as he stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back. The second thing he noticed was that Mimey—his mother's pet Mr. Mime—was standing at the foot of the couch, staring at Ash in a cross manner and holding a broom over its shoulders. Ash yelped and quickly jumped out of bed before the Pokémon could use the cleaning implement to whack him in the face. "What's _wrong _with you, Mimey?!" he screeched. "Can't a guy crash after force marching halfway across the continent for three weeks!?"

"Mime, _mime!_" the Mr. Mime retorted, lowering its broom. It then pointed to a grandfather clock on the far wall, whose hands indicated that it was ten past twelve. Ash blanched; when he arrived at the lab, it had been at least four in the afternoon. The room had no windows, so he couldn't tell whether it was night or day. He turned to his mother's servant incredulously and asked, "Have I been asleep for eight hours?!"

Mimey shook its head, opening and closing one of its four-fingered hands five times. The young man quickly figured out what had gotten the Pokémon so irritated; his mom's note had told him to come to Oak's lab for something important, and what did he do? He fell asleep on the floor for twenty hours as soon as he walked in! He cringed, recalling the few times when Professor Oak truly lost his temper—those were not happy times. Up until now he could count all such instances on one hand; the sinking feeling in his gut told him that he'd probably need two very shortly. In order to avoid such an occurrence, Ash sprinted out of the room, running faster than he'd ever had in his entire life. He made it to the professor's central dining room just as the old man was rising from his chair to look for the boy. The poor guys didn't know what hit them: Ash barrelled headlong into the Professor, knocking him down with the force of a bullet train. The impact also brought the young man to the ground, where he sprawled in a groaning, agonized heap.

"Ah, so you did return from the land of the dead, after all," Professor Oak said dryly as he got to his feet, dusting himself off before proffering a hand to the dazed would-be Pokémon Master. "You had us worried for a while there, son; I was going to call the funeral home when we saw that you didn't wake up this morning."

"Ha, ha, professor," Ash replied monotonously, accepting the elder man's assistance in shakily getting to his feet. He was now feeling a mixed bag of emotions: on the one hand, he was annoyed with the fact that Professor Oak, the man who he'd looked up to for his entire life and the closest thing he'd ever had to a father since his parents got divorced, could make light of his exhaustion so easily. On the other hand, he was definitely relieved that the man seemed to be in good spirits today; Samuel Oak was a nice man, not prone to violence, but he could be terrifying if something made him angry. "Now what's so important that you couldn't let me get some shuteye after a twenty-one day hike? I mean, I did just hike halfway across the continent, you know."

The professor's face broke out into a grin. "I'm glad to see that your sense of humour is intact, my boy. You still have that undying spunk, for which our town is famous." Then his expression turned serious. "Now then," he continued, crossing his arms as he spoke. "I hear that you're feeling dispirited as a result of your loss in the Sinnoh conference."

Ash cringed slightly, lowering his head so he could avoid meeting the professor's eye. "Brock told you, huh?" he inquired, already knowing that his Gym Leader friend had likely done just that as soon as he got back to Kanto. The boy made a mental note to kill a certain squinty-eyed, would-be Casanova as soon as the opportunity arose.

"Well I have just the thing to get you out of that funk!" Professor Oak declared, suddenly cheerful as he pumped his fist towards the ceiling. "A friendly battle, one-on-one, with no time limit. There's nothing at stake for this match; the winner gains nothing, and the loser isn't forced to part with anything!"

Ash's head snapped upward, the corners of his mouth rising as the depressing cloud which had overcast his vision since the tournament began to disperse at last. A Pokémon battle would be just the thing he needed to get his spirits up. "That's sounds great, Professor!" he agreed enthusiastically. Then he began to look around the room as a thought struck him. "But the only people here are you, me and mom. Who am I going to battle?"

Samuel Oak fell flat on his back with a groan, stunned by his ward's failure to grasp the situation. "I was talking about _me_, you foolish child!" he explained once the young Pokémon Trainer had helped him to his feet. "A match with someone like me would be perfect, Ash. It will give you a chance to vent some steam, and it'll give me a chance to dust myself off, as it were. That battle with the Mirage Master a few years ago showed me just how rusty I've become in my old age."

"But Professor, wasn't he using a superpowered Mirage Mewtwo in that battle?" Ash recalled. It may have been a network of hologram generators, but the Mirage Master, a.k.a, Dr. Yung, had created a system that allowed him to conjure digital monsters based on the data of real Pokémon, making them appear in the physical world. These Mirage Pokémon, as they were known, were incredibly resistant to all seventeen elemental types and could utilise techniques unattainable to their real-world counterparts. The Mirage Master had intended to use this system to conquer the world, first by expanding the network to increase its range, and by using a password—extorted from Professor Oak by torturing Pikachu—to accumulate information from every major database in the world in order to create a super Pokémon: Mewtwo. This Mewtwo was absurdly powerful; it could use literally any technique, shrug off powerful attacks as if they had been a gentle breeze, and as a program, it had no repercussions about killing any humans or Pokémon which got in its way. It was only through the help of Mirage Mew—a 'flawed' program which had somehow obtained a soul for itself—had interfaced with Mewtwo, lowering its defences and allowing Ash's faithful Pikachu to delete them both, destroying the system in the process.

"No ifs, ands or buts, Ash!" the Professor said, seizing him by the wrist and dragging the startled young man to the Corral behind the lab. The two stood at opposite ends of a twenty-yard circle that had been burned into the grass, completely silent except for the rustling of the preserve's long grass in the wind. Pikachu stood before Ash, sparks crackling from its red cheeks as it eagerly awaited the arrival of its opponent. The electric mouse Pokémon's trainer was decidedly less confident, having no idea what Pokémon the Professor would use. He didn't even know what sort of Pokémon the Professor had, apart from his Dragonite.

His nervous waiting came to an end when Oak held out his arm, the pokéball he clutched glinting in the noonday sun. Ash's eyes widened as some clouds obscured the sun, allowing him to see the ball's colours. It was primarily blue, with two red bands wrapping around the sides at 45-degree angles from the stud in the centre—a great ball!

The Professor hurled the ball into the air with a cry of "Go!" and it split open to reveal an ethereal, azure serpent more than thirteen feet in length. The blue gems on the end of its tail and beneath its chin seemed to glow with a gentle, soothing light. Its white, wing-like ears twitched slightly as the Pokémon opened its glossy brown eyes and loosed a soft cry that carried through the air.

Ash groaned in dismay. A Dragonair was the last thing that he would have expected, flipping open his Pokédex to refresh his memory of what the blue dragon-type Pokémon could do.

"**Dragonair: The, Dragon, Pokémon,**" the electronic encyclopaedia intoned monotonously. "**This, Pokémon, is, believed, to control, the weather, and, surrounding, climate. They, are, capable, of, flight, even, without, wings, and, exude, a, calming, aura, which, can be, felt, by humans, as well, as Pokémon.**"

'Well, this is gonna be tough," the would-be Pokémon Master grumbled under his breath. "Pikachu, use Volt Tackle!"

"_Pikaa!_" Pikachu snarled, vibrating in place as its body became engulfed by a field of yellow electricity. It then exploded across the battlefield faster than the eye could see, heading straight for the Professor's Dragonair.

"Double Team," Oak countered, his lips curling in a faint smile. In response, the serpentine Pokémon closed its eyes and began to glow. Seconds before Pikachu would have slammed into Dragonair, the Pokémon suddenly split into a half-dozen identical copies, all of which surrounded Pikachu. The electric mouse Pokémon screeched to a halt, its eyes darting from Dragonair to Dragonair in an effort to determine which one was the real one and which were the copies.

"Don't fall for this trick, Pikachu!" Ash commanded, the memories of countless battles where his Pokémon had exhausted themselves trying to figure out the illusion that was Double Team—usually by wasting precious energy on attacks that struck nothing but thin air. "Hit them all at once with Discharge!"

"Pika-_CHUU!_" it screamed, unleashing a wave of high-voltage electricity in all directions. All six of the Dragonairs were struck; five of them vanished. The last one, which was directly behind Pikachu, shuddered briefly as the yellow lightning gambolled across its body. Ash grinned; Dragonair was paralyzed! It might be unable to move!

Before he could issue another command, however, his jaw hit the floor in shock as Dragonair suddenly _moulted_. It shucked off its skin like an ear of corn to reveal a layer of paler blue scales beneath. The now-healthy serpentine dragon let out a melodious cry as its discarded skin crumbled into dust before being blown away on the wind.

"What's wrong, Ash?" the Professor inquired lightly, having caught the boy's astonished expression. "Didn't you know that Dragonair can shed its skin?

"Now use Outrage!" he ordered before Ash could even begin to think of a retort. The dragon growled, the three orbs on its body taking on a toxic green hue as its eyes burned red with anger at being attacked. Balls of green fire expanded from the gems, growing to encompass the long snake's entire body before it began to flail about violently. Pikachu dodged with a surprised squeak, barely managing to evade the enraged Pokémon's spastically-thrashing, fiery tail as it dug a long and smouldering furrow into the battlefield. The mouse continued to dodge its much larger opponent, the distance between itself and Dragonair's blazing coils shrinking with every movement of the sinuous beast. Ash could see that a change of strategy was required if he was to emerge victorious.

"Use Agility, Pikachu! It can't hit you if it can't keep up!"

Pikachu closed its eyes, relaxing its muscles even as Dragonair continued to rain fiery blows down around it. The yellow Pokémon's eyes snapped open, and all at once Pikachu was gone—moving so fast that it was invincible. It quickly moved out of Dragonair's reach, pausing at the other end of the battlefield to observe the great serpent. Dragonair continued to thrash and flail, oblivious to the fact that Pikachu was nowhere nearby. This continued for nearly a minute before the cerulean ophidian finally stopped, its body heaving with fatigue in the center of the smoking crater it had created, trying to recover its lost energy.

"Now, Pikachu! Use Thunderbolt!"

Dragonair turned even as Pikachu leapt high into the air, launching a blindingly bright yellow bolt of lightning directly into the wyrm's face. Dragonair screeched in agony as several hundred thousand volts of electricity coursed through its body, before it could take no more and slumped on the ground, blackened and unconscious.

"Dragonair is unable to battle," Ash's mother declared proudly, gesturing to her son's side of the field. "The winners are Ash and Pikachu!"

Ash pumped his fist victoriously, before kneeling and taking his cheerful mouse into his arms.

"Excellent job, Ash," Professor Oak said, clapping his hands together in applause as he recalled his injured Pokémon. He approached the young man and laid a hand on his shoulder. Ash looked up into the older man's eyes, seeing something there that he'd never have expected: fatherly pride. "I think, after all these years, that you're ready for the ultimate challenge."

Ash blinked. "What challenge is that, Professor?"

Samuel Oak drew in a deep breath, before replying in a low voice that seemed filled with menace. "The Exodus League."

"Exodus?"

"I don't blame you for not knowing about the continent of Exodus, Ash," the professor said apologetically, patting his ward on the back. "Not that many people do, because it has always been a difficult place to reach. Exodus is a continent to the south of the Orange Archipelago, surrounded by a ring of dangerous barrier reefs which make travel by boat all but impossible."

"So why can't you just fly there?" Ash inquired curiously.

"Because a mineral produced by the reefs gives off bizarrely-focused electromagnetic waves which interfere with the navigational instruments of planes, helicopters and zeppelins. This makes it extremely risky to fly over the continent, as it has several mountain ranges which would be easy to collide with if you couldn't tell which way to fly."

Ash frowned in confusion. "And how am I supposed to get there?"

This time it was his mother who replied. "There is one part of the barrier reef which ships can get through. It's very small; barely enough room for tugboat," she added, holding up her hand and bringing together her thumb and forefinger for emphasis. "The closest bit of dry land is Seacrest Island, where the regional professor lives."

"His name's Professor Cyprus," Oak clarified. "He and I used to study together at Pokémon Tech."

"Anyways, we've arranged for a boat to take you to Seacrest Island, so you can check out the new league."

"And there's a whole bunch of Pokémon unique to the region, the likes of which you've never seen before!"

Ash stroked his chin, intrigued by the news. A new league, new badges and new Pokémon? This sounded like a golden opportunity to rebuild his confidence, and possibly succeed at his dream of becoming a Pokémon Master at long last.

Still, he had some reservations. The two adults were still talking, and he was only listening with half an ear, but he did catch the phrase 'Pokémon are unusually aggressive.' _That_ caught his attention. "How do you mean, aggressive?" he asked.

"Well, some of the Pokémon are very territorial," the professor answered, scratching the back of his head as if in embarrassment. "They're docile most of the time—for the most part, anyway—but some of them become extremely vicious when humans enter their nesting grounds. They see it as an attack on either themselves or their offspring, so they'll respond in kind—by attacking the trespassers, either to drive them off or simply kill them."

Well, _that _was a pleasant thought. Even so, Ash felt that the pros of this trip outweighed the possible con of being eaten alive by an angry Pokémon.

"Misty will be there," his mother added in a sing-song voice. "She'll be waiting on Seacrest Island for you."

That settled that. Ash would accept any chance at being with the red-haired, tomboyish mermaid who'd been his longest travelling companion after Brock. The thought of reuniting with her after four years of separation filled him with a warm and pleasant feeling, and he couldn't help but smile.

"When do I leave?" he demanded insistently, wanting to get underway as soon as humanly possible.

"The boat leaves in an hour—" Professor Oak began, but quickly trailed off as Ash sprinted into the lab, leaving a thick cloud of dust in his wake. Within seconds they could see the plume exiting the lab through the front door, zip toward the Ketchum household, enter the home briefly, and then hurtle outward in the direction of the small port at the south of Pallet Town. The professor let his arm drop to dangle uselessly at his side, unable to do more than stare as the boy's enthusiasm. "Wow," he said a full five seconds later. "Are you sure that his father was a human, and not an Entei?"

"I'm a little more concerned about the fact that he left before we could tell him the other reason why we're sending him to Exodus," Mrs. Ketchum said irritably, crossing her arms in a mixture of frustration and worry. Professor Oak put an arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner, trying to calm her down before she had a nervous fit.

"It's alright, Delia," he whispered in her ear. "I'm scared too. Ash may not be the spawn of my loins, but I consider him to be my son as well. I'm just as worried as you are."

"But what if he's not ready for the dangers that my father spoke of?" she said, her voice cracking as her eyes watered.

Samuel Oak—mentor, friend, and life partner to Delia Ketchum—turned her around and wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. "Don't worry, my dear. Ash is every bit as good a trainer as Red was at his age—better, even. If that was ever in question, the battle between Pikachu and Dragonair proved it. Ash will find Lucille, and he'll help put a stop to all this nonsense. You'll see."

Delia pulled back, staring at her lover when tear-filled, bloodshot eyes. "But what if he can't help her? What if she doesn't want to be helped?"

Professor Oak fell silent, and stared out at the horizon. He had no answer to give for that question. He could only hope that when the time came, Ash would be able to make the right decision.

* * *

"_I'm on the road again_," Ash sang loudly and off-key as the speedboat pulled away from the pier and began to accelerate on the long journey south. "_I can't wait to get on the road again_." he was barely able to contain his excitement: new Pokémon, a new League, a new shot at being a champion, and a reunion with Misty! He took his seat next to the boat's wincing pilot and continued to whistle a butchered rendition of that tune, wondering what new quest could await him in the mysterious, dangerous and exotic land of Exodus. The captain shook his head in dismay. _This is gonna be a loooooong trip…_

* * *

Even as Ash contemplated what sort of adventures could await him in the Exodus region, events were already being set into motion far, far away. At the heart of a blisteringly hot, almost-lifeless desert lay a temple—a ziggurat—half-buried in the sand. What little could be seen of its exposed surface was covered with bizarre hieroglyphics, resembling eyes with spokes that seemed to form letters. This ruin, long spoken of in frightful whispers by village elders when the entire clan was gathered around the fire, was known as the Temple of Earth. It had existed long before man or Pokémon inhabited this region of Exodus, and was believed to be the abode of a powerful entity. Over the centuries a few brave—or possibly foolish—souls had sought a way to enter the temple in order to see whether the rumours were true, but none ever returned.

Several more names would soon be joining that list.

Half a dozen black-clad figures climbed over a nearby sand dune and surveyed the temple. Many of them appeared dishevelled; their hair was matted and filtered with sand, the clothes that they wore were threadbare and torn, and their eyes simply stared ahead with a hollow look. The spark of life which normally glimmered in the eyes of men was completely absent from these five; if the eye was the window to the soul, then the majority of this group had been dead to the world for quite a long time.

Their leader, apart from his outfit, was not much better off than the rest of them; he wore a suit of mixed leather-and-steel armour, and a black cape hung from spike-covered shoulder pads that made him seem much larger than he actually was. A small dagger dangled from his belt, oddly out of place compared to the three pokéballs which glinted in the evening sunlight. His ghastly pale face was covered in rivulets of sweat, and he was continuously blowing a strand of hair away, but there was a fervour in his eyes that suggested he didn't much care for his discomfort. His crimson orbs gleamed, the fervour bordering on absolute fanaticism, and his thin lips peeled back in a maniacal grin. Reaching down and seizing a pokéball in one of his gauntleted hands, he cocked his arm back and hurled the red-and-white ball forward. It burst open to reveal the black-furred, demonic form of a Houndoom. The Doberman-like Pokémon growled with pent-up rage, its tail swishing back and forth in agitation as it turned to regard its master.

The man smiled. "Our objective is within that building, my pet," he said in a lilting, painfully high-pitched voice. "It won't come out to play. What do you say we _make _it come out, Cerberus?"

The hellhound whirled, opening its muzzle and snarling at the temple. As it did so, a ball of yellow energy formed in its mouth, gradually expanding for a few before being released in the form of a golden energy beam. The ray of power streaked across the short distance and exploded into the temple, blowing a massive hole in one side and kicking up a fierce dust cloud.

At that exact moment, a noise unlike anything the man had ever heard—like metal scraping against rock, the earth groaning as it split open in an earthquake and the roar of an avalanche, all rolled into one—seemed to emanate from the temple. He froze, the hackles on his neck raised from the ungodly noise as it was joined by a low, pulsing hum that continued to rise in pitch. It almost sounded as if the temple were _screaming_ in agony.

Suddenly the sound gave out, and the ziggurat exploded. The man yelped and brought his arm up to shield his face as enormous hunks of stone rained down upon the dune. The other members of the group continued to look on impassively, not even flinching when enormous slabs hit the sand mere feet away. One was even struck head-on by a thin segment of the temple, bisecting him from his crown to his loins. Not one of the remaining four stirred from their current positions as the two halves of their comrade flopped down to the sand, joined half a second later by the shattered, sparking remnants of a control collar.

As the onslaught of debris finally ended, the man looked up and saw his goal at last. It was an earthen cube, roughly a metre across, with a rough and pitted surface and a stylized eye emblazoned on one side. A band of sand and rock encircled it along its vertical axis, like the rings of Uranus. The pupil of its hieroglyphic eye swivelled about and settled upon the man, glowing with an inner red light.

"So this is the master of the temple," he breathed, the maniacal zeal returning as he spoke. He strode forward and spread his arms widely in a charismatic gesture. "I bid you welcome, o lord of the solid state, master of sand and rock…welcome, Solox!"

The noise, which had faded into silence during the temple's explosion, suddenly returned at a deafening volume. The man halted, able to see that he had angered the floating cube, for it was shuddering in what appeared to be rage. He also saw that there was a large gap in one side of the Pokémon's body, and although it was slowly filling up with sand from its ring, it was obvious that the legendary creature was badly injured.

He smiled in what he hoped was a friendly manner—and wound up producing a facial expression that would make a thousand babies weep from terror. "I'm sorry about awakening you in such a…rude manner, but we are short on time, and my lord Ophiuchus needs you." he swept his hand back in the direction that he came. "Now, if we could be going…?"

In response, a large number of rocks shot up from the sand and came to rest next to Solox. All of the rocks then aligned themselves so that their sharpest points were facing the man.

He became even paler as his face fell. "Oh shi—"

All of the boulders then hurtled through the air at him, propelled by a vast telekinetic force as the enraged legendary Pokémon used its Rock Slide attack. The man's Houndoom leapt forward and loosed a blast of flame from its mouth to intercept the attack as its master turned and ran, screaming like a little girl.

"Slaves!" he quailed, his voice growing fainter as the gap between himself and the cube-shaped beast widened. "I brought you here to protect me—now protect me! Subdue that awful monster before it kills me!"

As one, the quartet of slaves began marching forward in military cadence, their hands grasping pokéballs which they hurled in unison. A Stunky, Murkrow, Hitmonlee and Nuzleaf popped out of their balls and proceeded to unleash their varied techniques upon the lone enemy. Before any could connect, however, a curtain of sand swirled around Solox and transformed into a shell of solid rock. A poisonous Sludge Bomb, chilling Ice Beam, powerful Hi Jump Kick and stinging Bullet Seed all collided with the shield of rock and bounced off ineffectively, which then exploded violently before any of the attacking Pokémon had a chance to recover. A hail of deadly shrapnel filled the air, shredding the four Pokémon and their trainers into sickening heaps of dismembered flesh. Only the Houndoom survived the onslaught, escaping it relatively unscathed. It proceeded to attack the newly-vulnerable Solox with another blast of Hyper Beam, which the legendary beast took full-on to little effect before retaliating with one of its own. The Houndoom yipped and leapt aside, barely avoiding the blast of deadly energy. The sand then shifted into a huge wave, slamming down on Houndoom before the unfortunate Pokémon could gain any footing on the shifting terrain.

As the dust cleared seconds later, the demonic canine poked its head above the sand and whimpered piteously. Solox descended to eye-level with the black dog, clearly intending to finish it off when the sound of clapping rang out across the desert. Both Pokémon turned to see the man approaching slowly, bringing his hands together in applause as he surveyed the damage.

"Most impressive, Solox," he said with a note of irritation, halting about ten feet away from the living cube. "It seems that my lord was correct; Pokémon like you are simply too powerful to defeat by fair—or even slightly unfair—methods."

A crooked smile crossed his face. "Fortunately for me, I didn't get where I am today by playing by the book. To become an administrator in our organization, I've lied, I've cheated, and I've sacrificed friends and murdered rivals to attain my position. And I always keep an ace up my sleeve."

As he spoke, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm to reveal an insidious-looking device strapped to his arm. It resembled a basic calculator, with a small screen and ten buttons on its surface, but also had several wires burrowed into his flesh. He began to punch in a series of numbers as he continued with his monologue.

"For example, having a Pokémon battle another Pokémon is by no means a certain business; there's always a chance that you'll lose, even if your Pokémon vastly overpowers the other. And while I'm certain that you feel pretty sure of your victory right now, I think it's time to make that chance a much greater probability."

And with that, he flung his am skyward and roared. "Poké-graft system online! Voiceprint: Penumbra Administrator Hades! Single merge: Houndoom. Execute now!"

"_Voiceprint confirmed. Acknowledged,_" the sinister device chimed, radiating dark energy as Houndoom suddenly disappeared, transforming into a ball of grey light which struck the man and merged with him. He doubled over and groaned in agony as the veins on his arms began to bulge. His muscles throbbed painfully, growing larger with every passing second as coarse black fur covered every inch of his skin. The man—now beast—screamed as a pointed tail erupted from the seat of his pants and two curling horns sprouted from the back of his head. The gauntlets covering his hands ruptured to reveal a pair of enormous claws, and his boots succumbed to the same fate.

The monstrous beast grinned maliciously as the setting sun's last rays gleamed off of his silvery cranial horns. Fire snorted from his snout with every breath, and he stood coiled, ready to spring at a moment's notice.

"Your days of freedom are over, Solox!" the Pokémorph growled evilly. "I, Hades of Penumbra, shall see to it that you are captured to fulfill our grand design!"

With a mighty roar he leapt in to the air, Solox rushing headlong to meet him. The two beasts collided in midair, the resulting shockwave flattening the desert for miles in all directions. For many long hours they struggled, neither able to gain the upper-hand for very long. When the sun rose the next day however, only one figure stood triumphant…Hades!

"I have one of the three States, milord," he said into his communicator as he clutched the weakly-shaking Master Ball in his free hand. "Send me a helicopter, and a technician to salvage what's left of the slaves you gave me." He paused for a moment, listening to the other end of the conversation. "Yes, milord, I agree wholeheartedly: the plan is at last coming to fruition."


End file.
